Hesitation
by RumorGoddess
Summary: "... a tool of language to avoid offense, misspeaking, confusion and overstepping boundaries." Awkward silences and profound pauses abound. Sometimes it is what one doesn't say that makes the most impact.


My first fanfic since high school. I've now graduated college and teach Latin (you'll catch a little of that here). I hope you enjoy this little ficlet. It came about from me looking for more Spock/Uhura 'cross that boundary of teacher/student' fics to read. Any recommendations are appreciated and eagerly accepted! Love this ship. Hope you like my short little take. Now without further…hesitation ;)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, Star Fleet, Spock, Uhura, Zachary Quinto or Leonard Nimoy. I am, however, responsible for some 6 year old students knowing the ta'al and the skin tone difference between iron and copper based blood content. Your tax dollars at work.**

Hesitation… a humanoid inflection within language which can occur for any number of reasons, often as a result of uncertainty concerning one's words or actions.

"I expect that you all critically examined the reading, since it would be illogical to inadequately prepare for a senior level course."

Hesitation. The class ponders how to respond, verbally or otherwise, to a statement they know to be—though never inaccurate, after all this was Commander Spock—unrealistic in their eyes.

"Don't be too hard on 'em Spock! You were a lowly cadet once. You must know last night was the street party AND with old 20th century style kegs everywhere! What cadet could resist that?"

Hesitation. The history professor's statements are irrelevant. Students know the syllabus from start of term and, questionable social activities aside, could not logically deign to use a 'street party' as an excuse. However, he notes from past experiences that this would not be an appropriate answer to Professor Gill. He is often, as now, unclear about the difference between rhetorical questions and those seeking a legitimate response. The Vulcan commander, though now a senior officer and well-experienced with his human colleagues, still recognizes the cultural divide.

"Cadet. Might I inquire as to your whereabouts last evening? Were you engaged in bachanallic behavior with your classmates?"

Hesitation. The cadet, a highly intelligent linguist, is nonetheless thrown by this query. From anyone else, the question might have seemed nosy or perhaps even an attempt to check whether she was dating anyone.

"Sir, I'm not sure I understand the purpose of your question…"

Hesitation. Spock, while originally seeking a cadet's viewpoint to whether the previous night's revelry warrants leniency for today's students, is uncertain. He is barraged now with imagined scenarios in which Cadet Uhura is dancing with another male and doing so in an intimate manner. Spock realizes his internal use of the word "another"…

"Illogical," he murmurs, in an action uncharacteristic for his species, unthinkingly.

Hesitation. She cannot twist his response in a way that does not sound like an insult to her. "…what?"

Hesitation. "I apologize, Cadet. I need not impugn your—admittedly advanced for a human—sense of logic. I am afraid my thoughts… what is the idiom?... got away from me." The tips of his ears are now tinged a deeper green.

Hesitation. He seems embarrassed. This in itself is unusual. To get lost in a daydream seems even more out-of-character. About what, though? Nyota cannot contain her curiosity. "To answer your original question… yes I did attend the street fair last night."

Hesitation. An emotion almost unfamiliar surfaces… if not for a long ignored memory of his classmate receiving a selhat when he himself had logically requested one—continuously, with compiled data and charts—for months prior. Yes, this must be jealousy. The commander's fists clench and his jaw tightens. Imperceptible to most humans, but to some…

"I was alone for most of the night, though. My roommate is really more into that scene than I am and…" Hesitation. She notices his jaw loosens and his shoulders relax minutely.

Hesitation. He feels relief but does not understand this need to respond to her, although she has asked no question.

"I… I mean…" Hesitation. For a linguistics major, she sure feels tongue-tied at the moment. But he is staring at her suddenly, or perhaps she is only now realizing the importance of a gaze that has long been there. She cannot seem to stop herself from talking. "I don't generally go to those things since they're mostly just for hooking up."

Hesitation. Slight confusion. "That is Standard slang for sexual relations?"

"Um… yes. Well, I'm not really looking to be with any of my classmates, so it seems a bit superfluous." Hesitation. He hasn't moved. Nyota fears she has just stepped over that metaphorical line of propriety. She instantly fears and regrets. But then…

"Fascinating."

Hesitation. She is confused, embarrassed and a little flattered by the way his attention has not wavered from her this whole time. "What is? Fascinating, I mean?"

"You specified your lack of desire for classmates. Due to your generally concise use of language, I can postulate with a 5.2 percent degree of error that you say this to indicate existing interest in someone who is not a cadet." Hesitation. Her initial reaction is to act as though he's simply overanalyzing again. As his teaching assistant, she has called him out on his overly- literal interpretation of Standard many times. Yet…

"From these premises, what conclusion would you draw, Commander?" Hesitation. He thinks she is teasing him. A warm feeling fills his chest, both pleasant and uncomfortable at once: a contradiction. His heart rate accelerates by 24.3%.

"It would be logical to conclude, given your previous statements, high level of intelligence and…" Hesitation. He willingly obliterates that figurative line with "and the fact that you breathing has accelerated and the blood vessels in your cheeks are dilated that you have desire for an instructor."

Hesitation. Fear of rejection, then a leap. "Yes. That would indeed seem to be a logical conclusion." A step closer now, but unsure who moved, she watches his right hand move slightly toward her.

"Fascinating." Hesitation… then he raises his hand and ever so delicately strokes the tips of two fingers down the curve of her still-blushing cheek.

"Oh." Hesitation, a truly common reaction, occurring for any multitude of reasons. Hesitation, a tool of language to avoid offense, misspeaking, confusion and overstepping boundaries. Hesitation…

"Oh, screw it!"

Professor John Gill, leaving a meeting about the political unrest on the Class M planet Ekos, walks up to Spock's door. He decides to encourage him again to go easy on the cadets every once in a while. Even the Romans had to party to keep the masses happy. About to share a little (presumably unwanted, but free) advice on human nature, the professor… hesitates. Expecting a dull scene of a Star Fleet professor behind a desk, he instead stands shocked at the site of the Vulcan officer and a strikingly lovely cadet wrapped up in each other. Their attentions are so focused; they don't even realize John is standing right there. He ought to break it up, surely.

Hesitation. He slowly and quietly shuts Spock's office door, formerly cracked open. Then he sets off toward the cafeteria to slake his newly discovered love of schnitzel. With a chuckle, the great admirer of history merely states to himself, "Well the ancients must've had the right of it. Amor omnia vincit," and continues without pause.

**_Nota Bene_: Kudos and imaginary cookies to whoever catches my little foreshadowing side plot for our innocent character who will go on to violate the Prime Directive. I blame the schnitzel.**


End file.
